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Saint strides into the kitchen like he belongs here. I clench my teeth so hard, I worry my jaw will snap.
He brightens when he spots me. “Great to see you, Briar.”
“It is my house,” I grumble.
He sets down the brown paper bag on the counter and pulls out a tall bottle of Merlot and a container of chocolate pie.
My favorites. Of course.
“Merlot?” Saint asks, already digging in my cupboard for the wine glasses. Of course he knows exactly where they are. He’sprobably memorized the layout of my entire house. How many times has he been in here?
“I’ll take a glass. Wasn’t that so sweet of Saint to bring wine and dessert?” Mom prompts.
I cannot believe he’s roped me into this. “Yes,” I grind out. “So sweet.”
“Let’s go drink our wine at the table while the food cooks,” Mom suggests.
Saint winks at me before following my mom out of the room. I bite back a groan. This is going to be an evening from hell.
“So Saint,” Mom says. “You said you’re Briar’s student. What do you like to write?”
Yes, Saint. What do you like to write outside of the dull literary prompts delivered by Dr. Barrett? Would they perhaps be erotic Gothic horror novels written under the pen name S.T. Nicholson?
He smiles easily, taking the middle seat so I’m forced to sit beside him. My teeth will be ground to dust soon enough. “Love stories.”
Mom coos and I barely suppress an eye-roll.Love. His twisted brand of love involves monitoring and stalking a woman. Repeatedly crossing her boundaries, breaking into her house, and killing any man whose eyes linger too long.
Cookie’s little paws scuttle across the floor, heading for her bowl in the kitchen now that we’ve vacated the room. But to my surprise, she stops at Saint’s chair and peers up at him.
My mouth falls open when he pats his lap, and she jumps up, circling until she finds a comfortable spot and settles down.
“What a little bitch,” Mom gasps.
That pulls a laugh from me and Saint. I’m still in shock. “She doesn’t like anybody,” I admit.
He tilts his head back, grinning at me. “I’m not anybody.”
God, I hate him so much. I’ll have to scold Cookie later for betraying me like this.
“I’ll be right back,” Mom promises. “I’m going to check on dinner.”
As soon as she’s out of sight, I wrench Saint’s arm and hiss, “You think you’re so clever, don’t you?”
His warm smile doesn’t falter. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he says smoothly, scratching Cookie’s favorite spot behind her ears while she purrs in treachery. “But I do like your hands on me.”
I drop his arm. “You sicken me. Don’t mess with my mom. If you hurt her, I swear?—”
Saint swings his knees toward me, dark features serious now and voice low. “I would never hurt your mother, Briar. I would never harm a hair on her head. Or yours. I’m not this monster you’ve created me to be in your mind. You may think what I do is purely for selfish reasons, but everything I do is for you. Everything I do is to make your life better, to make you happy. I assure you, someday you’ll see that. You’ll see that I live for you, because I am nothing without you.”
His words stun me, rendering me speechless.
“No one is leaving this house hungry,” Mom calls, returning from the kitchen.
I jump up from the table and away from Saint, busying myself with grabbing broccoli from the freezer.
Mom flashes us a knowing grin and I want to scream that it’s not what it looks like. That the last person she should want her daughter to fall in love with is the man who’s stalking her.
I knock on the door to Dr. Barrett’s office, already cringing. Sharing a classroom with him is one thing, when he knows a student or another faculty member could walk in at any moment. It’s another entirely to be alone with him in his office with the door closed.
